


Dreams

by Nisa



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jedi in love, M/M, Sea and Sand, This is how Karen Miller's "Siege" should have ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10022441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisa/pseuds/Nisa
Summary: Obi-Wan's subconscious knows everything, but he doesn't seem to care.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temple_mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temple_mistress/gifts).



> Written as a birthday present for my dear friend temple_mistress.  
> Originally posted on LJ in 2011.

Obi-Wan didn’t dream often, and when the war started, at the beginning he didn’t dream at all. After he first saw what remained of the population of the entire planet that had refused to join Count Dooku, he had a month of nightmares. But dreams passed in time, and so did his. As the war went on and became everyday life, only two dreams remained. He never thought of them in his times of wakefulness, but they were buried somewhere deep in his subconscious and haunted him subtly. In the first one, there was scorching heat, rivers of fire and the crushing pain of heartbreak. The other one was of heat, too, but of a different kind, and it was also of blindingly white sand, the scent of the sea and sunshine. There was always someone else in both, but the presence was elusive, and Obi-Wan never tried to guess their meaning. There was too much happening in real life to pay attention to dreams.  
  
He told Quinlan about them, once, when they were finishing their second bottle of Alderaanian brandy. Word had reached them from another part of the galaxy earlier in the afternoon that Anakin’s battle group had fallen into a trap, and Quin had thought it right to offer his partner in the mission a glass of something strong while they were waiting for news.  
  
“It’s simple, Kenobi,” he said, clapping Obi-Wan on the shoulder. “You dream of heaven and hell, you know, where some races believe you go after you die, either one or the other. And death's always near these days, that’s why you keep seeing them… Oh well, no, I mean, I’m sure your inventive Skywalker boy will be all right!”  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged. Even through his alcohol-clouded mind he could see more clearly than ever that hell was just any place without _someone_ , not all that stupid fire and heat, but he wasn’t sure of his ability of coherent expression at that point, so he only poured himself the remaining brandy and drank it in silence.  
  
Sometimes his dreams woke him in the middle of the night, and he lay staring at the ceiling or, more often, at Anakin who, for some reason, always slept somewhere not far away, no matter how vast was the space. Obi-Wan breathed slowly in and out, tried to calm his heartbeat and to meditate like any Jedi at his place would have done. But his meditation quickly became reduced to simply staring at Anakin’s face, softened by the darkness and almost child-like. Obi-Wan had to fight the inappropriate desire to reach out and stroke the boy’s cheek and messy curls, and instead of searching for serenity, he somehow always ended up fiercely pleading the Force to protect the Chosen One, all serenity forgotten in the fervor of his plea. The Force’s Chosen One, not _Obi-Wan’s_ , of course, and Anakin’s life was important to the galaxy, so maybe being concerned about his safety was the Jedi way, too.  
  
Obi-Wan could barely conceal his annoyance and frustration when he and Anakin were called upon by the Council the next day after their return from Lanteeb. They could hardly move with exhaustion, and here the relentless Grandmaster was going to send them somewhere else without any proper respite. Obi-Wan was about to politely suggest sending only him and leaving Anakin in peace, when Yoda narrowed his eyes and tapped his gimmer stick.  
  
“Too fast in judgement a Jedi should be not, young Obi-Wan,” he said severely. “Grateful for your effort we are. On a meditation retreat go you will.”  
  
That was how they found themselves on that planet of sea and silence. After the never ending tumult of war, the quiet, interrupted only by the breaking of waves on the shore, could have been almost unbearable, if Anakin hadn’t been there to annoy Obi-Wan with constant complaints that they were only wasting their time. For the first two days the sea was stormy, but on the morning of the third it calmed, and the sun shone brightly from the cleared sky.  
  
“See that island over there?” said Anakin, pointing at a distant strip of land barely discernable in the open. “The last one to reach it pays for dinner at Dex’s!”  
  
Obi-Wan didn’t share his partner’s bouncy mood and was quite content to enjoy the scenery from where he was sitting, but a cheerful Anakin was a happier sight than a sulking one, and sulking would very probably ensue if no action was provided.  
  
“Very well.” He rose up and discarded his tunic. “Only make sure you have enough money to pay for two. I’m not going to be your crediting bank _this time_.”  
  
The distance to the island turned out greater than they had expected, and by the time they reached it they were breathing heavily, dizzy with fatigue. Anakin gave Obi-Wan a hand helping him to make the last step out of the water, and both fell on the sand, laughing with excitement and exhaustion.  
  
“Okay. Let’s call it a draw, shall we? And you'll have to pay for dinner as usual.”  
  
“I don’t even have to tell you what an annoying brat you are, do I?”  
  
“No, of course not,” Anakin rolled on his left side, and Obi-Wan on his right, so that they were facing each other. Anakin’s hair was wet and messy with sand, and Obi-Wan must have been looking pretty much the same, because Anakin chuckled and reached out to brush the sand off his bearded cheek. Obi-Wan mimicked the gesture, carefully carding his fingers through tangled curls, touching Anakin’s skin with his fingertips. Suddenly all the laughter faded away, as they were lying so close, caressing each other’s faces. It was Anakin who was the first one to move even closer, his hand sliding to the back of Obi-Wan’s head and his eyes wide and intense with an unspoken question that rather looked like a plea.  
  
_No_ , Obi-Wan should have answered. _Of course, you may not_.  
  
The sand all around was blindingly white, the sea smelled of algae and salt and the sun shone high. It was _either one or the other_ , but Obi-Wan was not thinking of dreams, heaven, hell or the only obvious choice. He just leaned in and closed his eyes, giving in and giving away everything he had tried so hard to hide even from himself.  
  
After the first night he slept in Anakin’s arms, dreams never haunted him again.


End file.
